Chapter 14: The wisdom of the people is infinite!

The Order of Heretic Inquisition had dropped Allen and Marianne off in the Lower District, yet they had also notified the Laval Family to pick them up.

Allen couldn’t help but grumble, “Why didn’t the Inquisition just send us straight home? Why take such a detour—aren’t they just making things more troublesome?”

Of course, despite his complaints, Allen understood well the reason behind the Inquisition’s unnecessary detour.

The Inquisition was the sharpest sword of the Church, representing the Church’s stance.

If the Inquisition’s carriage appeared directly in the Upper District, many busybodies would exaggerate it as a provocation by the Church against the Royal Family.

Rumors are like fire—those who speak mean no harm, but those who listen have intentions.

The Kingdom was by no means peaceful now.

Political forces were all on edge, and the Inquisition would rather take a longer route than invite trouble.

“The Butler probably won’t be here for a while,” Allen stretched, his bones faintly creaking as he looked around the still bustling Municipal Square and suggested, “Why don’t we stroll around here for a bit?”

Marianne shook her head lightly, her black hair brushing against her slightly pale cheeks in the breeze.

She lifted her crimson eyes and looked at Allen, her gaze impossibly clear.

“I don’t want our ‘date’ to be recorded by a crowd of people.”

‘Date?’

Allen almost choked on his own spit.

Can just walking around count as a date?

Don’t underestimate dates, Marianne!

A date is something sweet enough to make your heart tingle!

Especially when it’s you and Livia on a yuri date!

Just thinking about those two beautiful girls happily leaning on each other made Allen feel his sinful soul purified.

The girls’ hazy emotions were not borne of human’s ugly desires but pure love!

Pure yuri is the true treasure I seek!

What?

You say mutual-understanding yuri couples aren’t pure yuri?

As a fundamentalist yuri lover, all I want to say is—

All impure yuri relationships deserve to be burned by the Fire of Heaven!

LGBT ah ah ah ah!!!!

Everyone, don’t misunderstand—

I’m not a yuri fanatic.

I’m just a gentleman protecting humanity’s pure feelings (gazes afar).

Allen glanced at Marianne somewhat sheepishly.

The little maid’s cheeks seemed to have faintly flushed at the word “date.”

That pathological fanaticism had mysteriously vanished, and now she looked obedient, gentle, even a little shy like a young maiden.

Paired with her neat maid uniform, she somehow seemed pitifully delicate.

Allen’s heart skipped a beat.

He wasn’t feeling infatuated, but suddenly realized how flawed the legal system was in this medieval society.

Most people lacked even the most basic human rights.

Compared to that, child labor wasn’t even a serious issue.

Marianne was a year younger than him, and her mental age was far behind.

This child had to endure life’s hardships at such a young age—it was really not easy.

Thinking about how many times he had reincarnated, living each life in poverty, never having a decent job (mainly because of his terrible reputation), while Marianne had struggled in the Laval Family since childhood and through her own abilities became the Head Maid…

In comparison, Marianne was far superior to him, the useless young master.

“Um…Marianne,” Allen scratched his head, trying to show some concern as her master, “Is there anywhere you want to go? Or something you want?”

Marianne tilted her head slightly, hesitation flickering in her crimson eyes, her long lashes fluttering like little fans.

Then, in a tone full of certainty, she said clearly, “The only place I want to be is by your side. That is what I want.”

“…Huh?”

Allen’s smile froze.

W-what kind of answer was that?

What good could come from following a villainous young master like him?

Was Marianne serious, or was she being sarcastic?

Women were truly impossible to understand.

Thinking about it, Livia, that battle-crazed girl who was nothing like a normal maiden, was actually easier for Allen to understand.

Could it be that he and Livia were actually Soulmates?

No way, I’m not having that!!!

At that moment, a cool breeze mixed with fruity sweetness and ice wafted over.

Allen’s eyes lit up as he followed the scent.

At the edge of the square, a simple wooden cart stall had a vendor shouting energetically: “Chilled fruit vinegar! Chilled watermelon juice! Beat the heat and quench your thirst—refresh your summer!”

In the sultry early summer afternoon, this was like music to his ears!

Allen instinctively patted his pockets of the Inquisition’s “friendly-provided” plain clothes—empty!

Not a single penny!

His face immediately fell.

He had just boasted he’d buy something for Marianne, only to be slapped down the next second!

What a shameful master!

No way!

The face of a villainous villain must not be lost!

Allen’s eyes darted as his genius villainous mind immediately came up with a good idea, a sly smile creeping back onto his lips.

“Marianne,” he whispered mysteriously, “do you believe I can get those iced drinks for free?”

Marianne looked at him suspiciously.

“You…are you planning to use your noble status to bully the poor vendor again?”

Her tone held a trace of disapproval.

“Tch! How could you not trust your young master’s wisdom?”

Allen looked hurt.

“Watch and learn! I’ll show you the true charm of a villain!”

He straightened up and strode over to the ice drink stall with unrecognizable determination.

Marianne sighed helplessly but couldn’t take her eyes off Allen’s retreating back.

She saw Allen approach the vendor and apparently ask something (probably, “Do you know me?”), but the vendor just shook his head blankly.

Her heart tightened. Oh no, the young master was probably about to pull out his usual bullying act again, the classic “oppressing men and women” routine.

However, what happened next was beyond her expectations.

Allen didn’t put on airs as a noble but instead leaned closer and whispered to the vendor.

At first, the vendor looked suspicious and wary of this finely dressed young master who came to chat.

But soon, Marianne saw the vendor’s eyes suddenly light up, as if he had discovered a gold mine!

He even hastily took out a crumpled little notebook and a stub of charcoal, scribbling furiously as Allen spoke, his hands trembling with excitement.

The two grew more and more in tune, finally hugging like long-lost brothers and solemnly shaking hands as if sealing some grand pact.

Then Allen triumphantly returned with two cups of iced drinks!

“Here, yours.”

Allen handed Marianne a cup of clear fruit vinegar water and happily slurped the chilled watermelon juice himself, looking as if he had just tasted nectar.

Marianne took the cup, feeling the chill in her hands.

She cautiously sipped it; the sweet and sour flavor combined with the ice’s sharp sting instantly dispersed the dryness in her throat, causing her to squint in comfort.

“Delicious.”

“That’s right!”

Allen’s tail seemed about to wag in delight.

“So? Do you understand the greatness of me as a villain now?”

“…Setting aside why you’re so obsessed with being a villain,” Marianne looked at his smug little face and couldn’t help but ask, “Honestly, what exactly did you say to him?”

She was really curious how Allen got free drinks with just a few words.

“Hehe, trade secret!”

Allen smiled mysteriously but then felt it would be unrefined not to explain, so he lowered his voice, “Basically, I gave him a chance to change his fate! I told him recipes for new-style iced drinks, like sherbet, ice cream, and how to make things look fancier to sell to the noble gentlemen of the Upper District. I promised to partner with him, splitting profits fifty-fifty! He gives me free drinks as initial investment to prove his sincerity and ability. Isn’t that reasonable?”

Marianne’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Where did you learn these things?”

Her impression of the young master was someone who only ate, drank, played, and bullied others—not this capable.

Allen pretended to be profound, pointing at the sky and lowering his voice: “From some unknown mysterious realm…”

That mysterious realm was the short video platform Allen watched before transmigration.

“I see,” Marianne nodded, her gaze full of trust with no doubt whatsoever.

Allen: No!

Say something sarcastic!

Your cooperation makes me feel no sense of accomplishment!

They found a bench under the shade and sat down, enjoying the rare coolness and a moment of peace.

Allen sipped his watermelon juice, savoring the memory of his “business negotiation” with the vendor.

The vendor was obviously a newcomer to the Capital Lucien, a wide-eyed greenhorn with a passionate entrepreneurial spirit but clueless about the murky waters of the Capital.

He didn’t even know the name Allen de Laval, yet dared to talk business with a noble?

When Allen gave him the location of his family’s residence hoping the vendor could come for further talks, the man accepted without any suspicion, happily agreeing.

Naive!

Cute!

But also dangerous.

No noble was a good person—

Allen knew this better than anyone.

His father Bernard had surely not amassed the family fortune out of thin air.

Society’s wealth is finite; when someone’s riches grow, others lose out.

The useless nobles didn’t know how to expand the pie.

Allen’s cooperation with the vendor was a kind of experiment.

Without noble protection, even the Capital’s tax collectors, gangs, and thugs alone were enough trouble for a vendor.

However, Allen wasn’t acting out of kindness or a genuine desire to get rich selling iced drinks (though that would be nice).

What he really cared about was a piece of information the vendor unwittingly revealed—the “treasure” he used to make ice was a “White Crystal” accidentally discovered while expanding his Ice Cellar.

Soaking it in water made the water icy cold to the bone.

Allen almost jumped up on the spot.

Natural Nitrum!

This guy had accidentally discovered the Nitrum ice-making method—truly the boundless wisdom of the common people!

Nitrum was a good ingredient for making gunpowder!

Allen was a science dunce and couldn’t produce mature gunpowder or build firearms on his own.

In previous lives, even if he had known this info, he couldn’t have used it.

But in this cycle, he had unlocked a new faction—the Church.

The knowledge he lacked, the Church possessed!

Allen had a feeling he would need Nitrum sooner or later.

So he hurriedly coaxed the vendor, saying the “White Crystal” ice method was a trade secret and must not be revealed, or else no fortune could be made.

Joking aside, how could such a precious thing like Nitrum be known to others?

Better to prepare in advance—what if one day he really clashed with Crown Prince Charlie Durand or the entire Kingdom?

How could he go without some hard weapons?

Allen happily calculated, feeling the future of his villainous career was bright.

“Young Master! Miss Marianne! Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A familiar, warm voice called out.

Allen looked up to see the Laval Family’s carriage steadily parked by the roadside.

The kindly-faced butler Jean Leclerc hurried over, his face wearing a relieved smile.

“Butler!”

Allen immediately stood, a sincere smile on his face.

“Finally, you’re here! I missed you so much!”

“Oh dear, Young Master, such words are too much for this old servant!”

The butler waved his hands and carefully examined Allen.

“Seeing you look well, my heart can finally rest! The Master keeps mentioning you every day at home!”

“Has everything been alright at home these past few days?”

Allen asked.

“Thanks to you!”

The butler beamed.

“While you were away, the Laval Family finally had a chance to raise its head!

“The noble circle is buzzing about the attack by cultists on our family. The Master used the Inquisition’s ‘visit’ as leverage to finally collect many old debts and unpaid dues!”

Allen raised an eyebrow.

“Speaking of which, what’s with our family’s debts? I remember things were pretty comfortable a few years ago. How did we suddenly almost go bankrupt?”

The butler’s smile faded, and he lowered his voice.

“Young Master, that’s a long story. Wait until the Master returns tonight and have him explain it personally.”

“Alright.”

Allen nodded, not pressing further.

He turned and naturally extended his hand to Marianne.

“Marianne, let’s go home.”

The word ‘home’ rippled like a stone dropped into a still lake in Marianne’s heart.

That place, which once only made her want to escape and was filled with painful memories, had strangely transformed into somewhere she felt safe—almost longing to return.

She looked at Allen’s outstretched hand without hesitation and, with a near-reverent relief, gently placed her hand in his.

Allen’s palm was warm and dry, holding the firm strength unique to youth.

Marianne’s cool, slender fingers were lightly gripped by him, and a strange warmth instantly spread from her fingertips through her whole body, dispelling the last chill brought by the Inquisition.

“Mm,” Marianne looked up and gave Allen a gentle, peaceful smile.

“Let’s go home, Young Master.”

As Allen and Marianne boarded the carriage heading toward the ‘home’ that Marianne had newly redefined, the atmosphere by the iced drink stall in the Municipal Square was completely different.

Several men dressed in plain clothes but with a strikingly out-of-place aura surrounded the vendor still lost in dreams of a “business empire.”

“Speak! What did that noble young master just say to you?”

The leader frowned, his tone stern.

If Allen were here, he would be pleasantly surprised to find this serious man was the very Inquisitor who had interrogated him earlier.

The vendor was startled but recalled Allen’s warning before leaving—

“Someone might come to inquire about our trade secrets; don’t be afraid, just keep silent!”

He immediately straightened up and stared warily at the “uninvited guests.”

“Who are you? What do you want? I’m telling you, the City Hall is right here! Broad daylight, are you here to rob me or steal trade secrets? I’ll call the guards!”

The Inquisitor’s lips twitched hard.

Robbery?

Stealing trade secrets?

What nonsense!

He suppressed his anger and took out an inconspicuous badge engraved with a skull, waving it before the vendor.

“Look closely! Order of Heretic Inquisition! Answer honestly when we ask!”

He had expected that showing his identity would intimidate the vendor into revealing everything.

Instead, the vendor leaned in to examine the badge and frowned even more, looking confused and disdainful: “Order of Heretic Inquisition? What’s that? Some new scam gang? I warn you, don’t try to fool me! If you don’t leave, I’m calling the guards!”

Then he truly shouted at the top of his lungs: “Guards! Guards! Someone’s causing trouble here!”

The Inquisitor and his colleagues turned green.

The mighty Order of Heretic Inquisition, a name that sent chills through people, was being mistaken for scammers by a mere vendor?!

And he was calling for guards?!

“You!”

The Inquisitor’s fingers trembled with rage.

“Don’t you know…”

“I don’t know! I just know if you keep bothering me, I’m reporting you to City Hall!”

The vendor stuck out his neck stubbornly, utterly unyielding.

What followed was a classic case of talking past each other.

The Inquisitor asked one thing, the vendor answered another, insisting they were villains trying to steal trade secrets and refusing to reveal what Allen had said.

The Inquisitor couldn’t just arrest the vendor in broad daylight—that would be too embarrassing—and his head began to hurt from the frustration.

In the end, it was the patrol guards attracted by the commotion who intervened.

Under their “kind” questioning, the vendor reluctantly told the story of Allen teaching him how to make new iced drinks and partnering in business.

The Inquisitor was utterly stunned.

That’s it?!

Selling iced drinks?!

Going into business together?!

He wasted precious time, got treated like a scammer, and nearly got “mediated” by guards, all for this?!

“Why…why didn’t you say so earlier?!”

The Inquisitor felt his blood pressure soar.

The vendor insisted righteously, “That noble young master said it was a trade secret! We can’t just tell others! Who knows if you’re spies sent by his competitors?”

The Inquisitor’s vision blurred, nearly fainting on the spot.

Allen de Laval, why does just talking to someone always get me into trouble like this?!

The vendor wasn’t trying to make things difficult for the Inquisition; his personality was just straightforward and obedient to Allen’s instructions.

But it was exactly this character that led the Inquisitor to misjudge and waste so much time.

He recalled Archbishop Lucien’s earnest warning: “Never treat him like an ordinary brat; he’s a cunning little fox far beyond what you imagine. He will surely set traps for you.”

So…this was the trap?!

A trap laid with a business plan, one that utterly ruined the Inquisitor’s dignity!

He had…been outwitted twice by the same person?

Allen de Laval!

You little rascal!

Just wait!

The Inquisitor silently roared in his heart, his fists clenched until they cracked.